


Misunderstand

by crablouse



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-12
Updated: 2011-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-17 23:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crablouse/pseuds/crablouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple misunderstanding leads to hurt feelings, apologies and intimacy. Expanded kinkmeme fill. John and Vriska experience mutual intimacy for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Touch

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a kinkmeme fill for a rather open-ended prompt wherein feelings are hurt, the pair apologizes and then reconciles. The first chapter was the fill itself, though now it's been revised slightly since it was posted, and the second chapter was added later.
> 
> It's been a long time since I've written anything, and certainly the first time I've written anything resembling porn, so any feedback is very appreciated.

Fuck, this was not how it was supposed to go.

Vriska, standing before him, seemed angrier than he'd ever seen her. Her jet-black hair was disheveled, her glasses were askew, and she was clutching her typical black t-shirt to her chest ( _how many of those does she even have? Just the one?_ ). Her fists were curled so tightly that he could see the small drops of cerulean blood slowly slide down her wrists, welling from the skin broken by her claws. She was quaking visibly, and her glare was an intense mix of rage and sadness, all poured into the most accusatory and betrayed expression John had seen her wear.

"What, you don't think I'm pretty?" she demanded, her voice gradually increasing in volume. "Am I not fucking beauuuuuuuutiful enough for your fucking human standards, _John_? Is my hair not _black enough_? Is my skin a little too _ashen_? Maybe my blood is a little too _blue_? Are my horns not _big enough_? Does my eye make me too much of a _fucking freak_?" She practically spit the words at the end of each sentence. There was an unusual hiss underneath her voice, one that John hadn't heard before – and it was rather frightening.

Fuck.

"N-no, I just-"

"You what? You just _what_? You just can't like someone like me? You just want to hate me like everyone else? Just -"

"No! Vriska, listen -"

"- Don’t even know why I fucking bother -" Her voice was starting to break.

"- I don't think you -"

"- I mean I should have known you'd be a useless nookwhiffer -"

"- I mean maybe we should -" John faltered. Vriska had fallen silent. He looked up at her face... and his heart sank. The tears she'd been fighting back had finally broken through, leaving translucent blue stains along her cheeks. Her amber eyes were watery and tinged with blue; her lips quivered; a choking sound escaped her throat, and she stumbled to the bed before slumping on it unceremoniously. The floodgates opened. Vriska buried her face into her shirt and just cried in great, heaving sobs.

Fuck!

It was the most hopeless sound John had ever heard a person, human or troll, make.

It sounded like she was drowning.

 _Nice going, Egbert. You just made the only girl who ever liked you cry. Dipshit._

Vriska's voice was choked and muffled, her words broken and stammered. "I-I thought y-y-you liked me and and a-and y-you wanted to b-be... tha-a-at you w- _wanted_ me! W-why else would you _kiss_ m-me-e l-like that?!"

John realized he had no idea what to do. He reached out, but almost immediately retracted his hands. His mouth opened. He closed it. He looked left, he looked right, he looked at Vriska. She had curled up on her side, her body shivering as she sobbed. John bit his lip as he tried to figure out what to do. He hadn't meant... he didn't want to... God damn it, he'd never done this before! _Now look what you did, Egbert, all 'cause you had to chicken out the instant she tried to let you get to third base! Real smooth!_

He reached out tentatively and rested his palm on her shoulder – and she immediately jerked away with an angry hiss. She jerked her head to stare at him, the now-filthy shirt dropping from her face. "F-fuck you, _John_ ," she spit, her voice shaky and hurt. He withdrew his hand like it was burned, and flinched at her. He stared at Vriska's face and his heart sank even further. Even like this – her eyes swollen with tears, cheeks smeared with blue eyeliner and blue tears, her lips a smear of blue and black – she was beautiful.

"Vriska, I -" He paused, expecting her to interrupt. Any moment now. Any moment.

Instead she just stared at him warily, sniffing loudly and wiping her cheeks with her shirt.

He took a deep breath and started again. Stay calm, Egbert. Stay collected. "Vriska, I t-think you're really, um, really beautiful, and... and I like you a lot, I know I do, I like you a lot and I want you to be happy but, uh... I just, I... I've never... I mean, I didn't want to because I just... I mean you're a troll and you... you're really pretty and I'm... I mean, you..." He faltered and looked down at his hands, twining them together in his lap. A sense of shame washed over him as he gritted his teeth – what was he doing, he was just going to make it worse, he should just leave, she hates him, he screwed up, she – she was... holding his hands. Wait. What?

He blinked as her hand removed his glasses and tossed them aside. "Vriska, wh-"

"Shut up, John," she sighed quaveringly before sniffing loudly. She settled in beside John and pressed against him, wrapping herself around his arm. "I guess it's... okay... if you don't like me that way. It was a little much to expect from a human." John grimaced. Even her acceptance sounded forlorn.

"No, Vriska," John replied as he turned his head to look at her. "It's not like that! I do like you in that way! I... it's just, when I said I didn't want to, it's just because... I mean, it's just... I don't know what to do. With, um, with girls, I mean. Especially troll girls, 'cause you... you aren't human, and... Fuck, that wasn't what I meant!" John realized he was blushing.

"You...?" Vriska's voice was quiet as she squeezed his clasped hands. She just stared at his face for a moment, and then she laughed and it was shaky and nervous but she was smiling, now, and that was probably a good sign. "Do you want me after all, John? I mean, of coooooooourse you do, but I think I'd like to hear you say it! Though maaaaaaaaybe now I don't want you anymore! You just made me cry, after all." That veneer of confidence, so easily broken earlier, was returning, though her face was still flushed and swollen from crying. This was a prickly situation, and John knew it, but he also knew the truth. And when you know the truth, it's hard _not_ to say it, sometimes.

"I... Yeah, of course!"

She leaned in closer, and John noticed her glasses were gone – she was gorgeous with them on, but without them, she was intoxicating. He could smell her now, a heady blend of exotic, unplaceable aromas that were exciting in their unfamiliarity, even when tainted with the slight copper of her tears. He loved being close to her, loved the way she smelled, loved the way she felt, and she was so close – he leaned forward just a few inches, and their lips met.

 

* * *

 

She couldn't help but forget about his previous transgressions, now, as their lips slid across each other just like before. Of course that was the reason. He was just nervous! He didn't know what to do! So obvious! How could she have been so stupid? "I don't want-" he's said, and she hadn't even listened before flying off the fucking handle. Off all of the handles. All of them! Stupid, Vriska! Stupid!!!!!!!!

But she can handle this. She's never done it before, either, but she's thought about it enough, and she _wanted_ it so badly. How hard could it be? She slowly thinks over her options as she presses in closer, practically draping herself across John's lap, her arms sliding up to cross his shoulders. Her gray tongue slips out from between her fangs and draws itself across his lips ( _he always tastes like mint_ ), followed soon by his own. They touch, and she giggles ( _way to go, Vriska, be even dumber and girlier why don't you?_ ) before pulling away. She looks at him and sniffs, smiling broadly. She took a deep breath and prepared to do something she'd never done before, at least not sincerely. Okay. Okay, Vriska, you can do this, just say it and get it over with, he won't think less of you for it, just do it.

"Sorry," she whispered sheepishly. "I shouldn't have assumed..." She trailed off, leaving the thought unsaid. Vriska pressed a fang to her lip as she studied his face. He looked... surprised, then embarrassed.

"No, no!" He stammered, making her giggle yet again. "It's my fault, I mean you were just, I mean I want, it's just..." he trailed off, his cheeks hot and red. She kissed one as she slowly, deliberately slid herself fully onto his lap. Or at least, that was the plan. As she moved, she felt something rigid beneath the fabric of silky blue outfit. She let out a surprised squeak, and her widened eyes shot a glance downward as her eyebrows rose. She rubbed the bottom of her thigh against it again, and heard John's breath hitch as he gasped quietly. Her head jerked back up, only to find that his eyes were closed and he looked absolutely mortified. Was that...? It had to be. She faltered briefly, suddenly feeling very nervous and giddy – she hoped the wide, fanged grin on her face would hide it.

"Joooooooohn," she cooed at him, suddenly finding herself wishing she had taken these fucking jeans off her legs already. Her heart was pounding, and his respite – _room_ , she reminded herself – was feeling very warm. Much, much too warm. "Is that for me?"

John stammered wordlessly, and Vriska couldn't help but laugh. Not a giggle, but a guffaw, her arms sliding tighter around his shoulders. Wrong move, Serket. John blinked and glared at her, frowning sullenly.

Vriska's eyes widened and she cursed silently. "No!" she blurts out. "I – I didn't mean it like that! You're just so cute, um, sometimes." Her own face was rapidly turning blue. _Don't fucking ruin this again, Serket! Do something! Anything!_

"John," she whispered, staring at his eyes, those eyes the same color as her essence. Her hand slid off his shoulders and reached behind her back, unclasping her bra. A shrug of her shoulders and it was off. Her heart was pounding even harder, her mind screaming about how he'd hate her, she wasn't pretty, no one liked her why would he like her he's just a human she's not even pretty enough for him she's screwed up so bad he's just going to... going to... Going to stare, wide-eyed. "Do you like them?" she asks, the silence of the room slowly filling her ears until they ring and buzz.

He didn't answer with words. She watched the look on his face turn to one of absolute wonder as he answered with his hand. It pressed against the bare skin of her belly, his touch surprisingly cold – her breath hitched and she instinctively sucked in her belly before relaxing. Her heart was pounding so fast, and his touch was like... it was like it tingled, and it was slowly moving _up_ , and... He pauses, briefly, and looks at her – she nods ever so slightly, and his hand cups the curve of her breast, the first time anyone else has touched that place, and it's so perfect, and why does this room feel so _warm_ , it's getting hard to breathe – _no, no, Serket, just relax_. She inhales slowly and deeply, then exhales, shaky and steady, as his touch sends little thrills through her mind.

It feels... nice, she thinks, as she feels the slightly rough skin of his fingertips brush over the raised, dark gray nub atop the gentle curve of her breast. It feels _really_ nice, and it's distracting, and she finds herself leaning in to press a kiss on the crook of his neck, and she's practically purring ( _who are you, Nepeta?_ ) as he explores. Her hand leaves his far shoulder to slide under the tunic covering his chest, doing some exploring of her own. She curiously pokes the round indentation in his belly, which makes him stop his explorations to look at her quizzically.

"Sorry!" she whispers, before moving on. The distraction has changed his plans, however, and the curious hand that was previously moving upward is now moving down, even as her own hand moves up. Vriska presses her nose to his neck and coos softly, every inch of her feeling alive. A growing sensation, a new one, is slowly filling her mind – it's not hate and it's not pity, but it feels so nice. She shifts as his hand glides along the plane of her belly and the soft slopes of her sides. She never realizes that she's biting down on her lip until she stops to gasp at a brand new sensation, her hand curling into his chest as his hand dips lower than she expected. Lower than _he_ expected, if his look of a forest hoofbeast caught in a bright light was any indication.

"John," she breathes shakily. His – his hand was – he was... He was _there_ , and Vriska's hand was down with his after what felt like a stretched string of time, captivated and awed; their hands were maddeningly separated by fabric, as she fiddled desperately with the button and zipper of her jeans. The seconds it took to remove them felt like an eternity, an eternity of everything just being too confining and warm. She writhed against him as her hand gripped both the jeans and the panties beneath, struggling to slide them off her legs. She kicked at the air when they got past her knees, managing after what felt like far too much struggle to get them _off_. One final kick sent them to the floor in a heap, and she pressed against him once again.

She was completely exposed, and she didn't care. Her hand slid up and pressed against his cheek, turning his head to bring his lips to hers. His hand was still there, trapped between her thighs as she pressed them together, her heart pounding and her breath raspy as she kissed him desperately.

 

* * *

 

What surprised John the most wasn't that she was naked, in his lap; it wasn't that she was kissing him harder than ever before; it wasn't that her dark gray tongue was sliding against his own as she made muffled noises that could only be giggles or moans; it was that she was so... _normal_ , he guessed was the word, in the... expected areas. He'd seen pictures of... humans... before, of course, including a really gross one in Sex Ed, but he'd expected her to be... different. And... she wasn't. At least, not much. He guessed, anyway. It was warm and smooth and hairless and _wet_ , which he didn't really expect. He wasn't really sure how his hand had gotten down there, or what he should do now that it was, and damn it she wasn't helping.

His clothes were nice, he had to admit, and very soft, but at this point in time they felt far too confining. It was so warm in his room, and he had no idea why, just that it was really uncomfortably warm, and he was acutely aware that his dick was pressing rather firmly against the bottom of Vriska's thigh. It was kind of embarrassing, but she didn't seem to mind. This warmth was getting unbearable, though, and he didn't know what he should do, and...

He pulled away from the kiss reluctantly, leaving Vriska looking rather nonplussed. "Vriska," he rasped as he regained his breath. "I, um... what... what do I do?" He glanced down at his hand, pressed against the heat and moisture between her thighs limply. She didn't answer him right away, just looked thoughtful – he decided to experiment. He slowly curled his fingers inward, earning a loud gasp and a death-grip from Vriska as her free arm slid back around his neck.

"Do that!!!!!!!!" she yelped. He curled them a little more, and was surprised to find his fingers slipping easily inside of her. He winced slightly, expecting her to get mad, but her only response was to stiffen and make a noise he didn't expect – a low, soft moan. He curled them a little further, marveling at the increasing feeling of a wet, throbbing _warmth_ tightly gripping his fingers. As he slowly sank further inside of her, he could feel her relaxing against him, murmuring things he couldn't understand into the crook of his neck.

He was also becoming aware of a distinct pain in his groin. Specifically, in the tumescent length currently trapped beneath Vriska's thighs and within the fabric of his pants. An idea of what he wanted slowly coalesced into his mind, and his lips spread into a wide grin. As his fingers passed the second knuckle, he decided to risk it and ask.

"Vriska?" he murmured. No response. "Vriska?" he said again, a little louder. This time, she noticed.

"Mwuh?" she blinked up at him blearily, her thighs squirming as she adjusted. "Huh?"

"Um, I was maybe wondering if you could maybe, uh... maybe... touch it?" he finished lamely.

She squinted at him. "Touch what?"

"My, uh..." A heartbeat pause. Her eyes widened as she finally understood.

"Oh... Oh!" She jerked up, but paused, considering the situation. "Um... okaaaaaaaay..." She shot him a warning look, practically daring him to defy her. "I'm going to move and if you take away your hand then I swear..." She closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Okay." She slowly and carefully slipped her legs off his lap, pivoting herself to press up against his side, her nearest arm moving over to slip into his pants. Her other locked itself around his wrist as she hissed in delight.

John bit his lip as her hand slithered down into his pants. Nobody else had ever touched it, and he'd barely even touched it himself, and... Her hand wrapped around it, and time stopped ever so briefly. He felt her gasp against him as her hand gave it a tentative squeeze. John raised his hips and frantically pushed the garment down, kicking it off his ankles once his hips resumed contact with the bed.

The rewards of exploration had been discovered in full, and the grins on their faces betrayed the sheer joy they felt at mutual pleasure. John's experimentation with his fingers went to a new level as he slowly slid them out, his fingertips sliding along the top of her insides. The smooth skin where his fingers met his palm pushed against a small nub that had recently made its appearance and the contact made Vriska gasp loudly and shiver against him. Her hand froze midway up the shaft in its grip. John panicked.

"Vriska! Did that hurt you I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I promise I'll stop I didn't mea-"

"Shut up," she gasped as she inhaled deeply. "And do that again." Exhale.

John complied, wide eyed, sliding his fingers back in and pressing his hand against the small nub. This time, she let out a long, low moan as she buried her face into his shoulder. John slid his fingers out once more and then back in. Vriska's gray skin gleamed with a thin sheen of sweat as her toes curled painfully, and her hand resumed its slow sliding along the member in its grasp.

Her touch felt amazing. Her skin was soft, and the sweat made it slightly slippery, and every time her grip passed over the head, he sucked in air before releasing it with a shudder at the rush of pure _sensation_ that washed over him. It didn't feel this good when he touched himself, he knew that. He didn't really notice that his fingers had settled into a steady rhythm of their own, though he was acutely aware of that intense, slick, silky grasping around his fingers as Vriska moaned and quivered against him. He hoped he was doing it right.

 

* * *

 

If trolls had a heaven, this would be it. She had _never_ felt _anything_ like this before – she'd never even had time to experiment on her own. She'd spent almost every night either FLARPing or making plans for FLARP, and once Sgrub started, she'd had even less time. She'd wanted to touch herself, sometimes, but she was always too tired, and Eridan had refused to touch her when they were kismeses ( _and he wondered why I broke it off?!_ ). Tavros couldn't even bring himself to kiss her! She had considered mind-controlling some of the trolls she captured during FLARP, like she read in Mindfang's journal, but... her lusus had just been so hungry and there just hadn't been any _time_. But this... this was better than anything she'd expected.

John's fingers filled her perfectly, and those pushes and caresses against that unfamiliar nub sent spangles of joy throughout her body. The feel of him wrapped in her hand made her blush, especially when it throbbed and jerked in her hand, filled with eager energy. She was, however, absolutely determined to make him feel as good as she was feeling, and the catches in his breathing seemed to indicate that it was working.

Time passed, marked only by the ragged breaths she took and the beads of sweat she sometimes felt slide down her thigh or back, and punctuated by constant, dizzy pleasure. She felt like she was falling towards something, faster and faster, and she didn't know what, but she wanted it so desperately, and the heat in her groin was getting absolutely _unbearable_ , and something was going to happen and she didn't know what it was but it just had to happen it just _had_ to don't you dare stop John don't you dare stop _FUCK_ -

Vriska _came_ , for the first time in her life.

She jerked against him and gasped for air as waves of joy swept along her nerves. Her hand's rhythmic sliding along his manhood became staccato as she melted against him; eyes closed and tongue licking her lips between gasps. It felt like it took forever to end, and forever was too soon. She rested against him for a moment, her eyes closed, and her breathing starting to even out as her hand slowed to a stop. "Oh fuck," she breathed against his shoulder. "Ooooooooh fuuuuuuuuck."

Her eyes fluttered open and glanced downward, squinting through her blurred vision. It was a little hard to see without her glasses, but she could see well enough to make out John's blue-soaked hand and the small puddle beneath. It was a mess, and she didn't care. She began a heady giggle, and looked up at John, only to pause at his desperate look. "Don't stop," he begged.

Confused, Vriska looked down again, and then realization dawned. "Oh... oh!" She kissed him on the cheek and muttered an embarrassed, unthinking apology before she got an idea. She giggled again and kissed him once more, on the corner of his lips. "I have an idea." Vriska slid away from his hand – with an intense pang of regret – to slide around to the back of him, pressing her cerulean-slicked thighs together as she pressed her breasts into his shoulder blades.

Her arms reached around and wrapped both of her hands around his member, pulling his thin body in close to her with her elbows as she began to slide them along its entire length. "Does that feel okay?" she asked him quietly, resting her chin against his temple. "I want you to feel good, too." A low, satisfied moan was the only answer she needed.

She kissed the top of his head as her hands, slippery with sweat and a clear fluid she wasn't quite familiar with, slid along John's member. She didn't really know how close he was, but she was surprised at how pliable it was despite its rigidity. She could feel his rapid heartbeat against her palms, and hoped it wouldn't take too much l-

It was sudden and explosive. John arched back against her as his breathing went ragged, whimpering her name over and over as his right leg moved upward involuntarily. Vriska's eyes widened as his shaft bucked and jerked in her hands, letting out a squeak as the first spray of white escaped the tip and splattered across her fingers. She held him, stock-still, staring in wonder as several more splattered across her fingers and the skin and sparse black hair of John's groin.

She continued to hold him until he was growing soft in her grip and the fluid was turning clear, and John was squirming a little sheepishly against her. They were both breathing heavily, ensconced in the wonder of the moment. She looked at the slowly shrinking rod in her hands in amazement, feeling strangely proud at the sensation of that peculiar slime on her fingers.

"Is that...?" she inquires hesitantly.

"What?" John asked blearily, tilting his head up to look her in the eyes.

"Is that... stuff... your, um... your... material?" She stumbled over her words and cursed quietly at herself. What a stupid question, of course it was, damn it Serket -

"Um, yeah, I guess so," he replied as his blush returned. "Oh man, I just realized... uh, you trolls use, uh, buckets, right? Geez, I didn't even think to have one or anything, I'm sorry -"

She couldn't help but giggle at that, even as she nuzzled his hair. "That's only for the Imperial Drones, you dumb boy," she murmured. Her fingers squeezed the flaccid flesh fondly as her mind thought of all the things she could _do_ with it, like -

"Y-you can let go now, i-if you want..." She jerked her hands back and grinned at him apologetically, not sure what to do with her hands now that they were... in their current state.

"Sorry, John, I -" She was silenced by a kiss, his clean hand moving up to wrap itself in her disheveled black hair. She didn't expect it to be so... fierce, and it caught her off guard – she kneeled behind him with her slimy hands splayed out to either side, her eyes wide as they both kissed in the warmth of afterglow. Finally making a decision, she wiped her hands on the bed sheets before wrapping them around his chest and leaning against his back, lips pressed against his.


	2. Explore

John was content. There was a core-deep sense of satisfaction in the aftermath of intimacy that he hadn't experienced before, but he wasn't going to let this be the last time. He glanced up at the troll currently pressed against his back and rolled his eyes. She was trying to apologize again! What did she even have to apologize for, anyway? He loved the way she touched him, wrapped around him, and made him feel... Well, he'd always hoped it would be Liv Tyler, but in hindsight, Vriska was a better choice. Yes, definitely a better choice. Besides, Liv Tyler was dead. And a movie star. And _way_ older than he was.

He raised a hand and ran it through her hair, letting it slide smoothly through his fingers as he pulled her down just enough to press his lips against hers. Maybe he wasn't the world's best kisser, but he aimed to please. The kiss seemed to catch her by surprise, he noted, which made him grin ever so slightly. Their lips meshed and parted in uneven rhythm, breath mingling and the tips of their tongues playfully pushing against the other. John could taste her, smell her, feel her, and he adored every aspect of Vriska Serket.

He felt her arms slide around his chest – the pressure was relaxing, and he was quickly forgetting about the earlier strife. With a sigh, John broke the kiss. Two pairs of eyes fluttered open, and a goofy grin plastered itself across John's face. "Vris- _KA_ -" He caught himself as his voice cracked into a squeak, turning his previously goofy grin into the sheepish sort. He cleared his throat and looked away as the pink started to creep back into his face. _Okay, John, deep breaths. Okay._ "Vriska," he began again, looking back towards her. "That-that was great! I mean, it was, uh, I didn't know it was gonna be..."

Vriska's quizzical expression turned into a wide-eyed, beaming smile for a brief moment before she seemed to catch herself. It turned into a smirk, with an eyebrow raised. "Didn't know it was gonna be so gooooooood, John?" She squeezed his chest. "Me either, buuuuuuuut... you did great!" The smirk turned into a grin as she kissed the edge of his ear, her breath tickling it as she exhaled. John shivered at the sensation – warm and moist. "I really like you, John Egbert," she whispered, her tone playful. "And maaaaaaaaybe we should get this shirt off."

She didn't wait for assent – her hands simply slid down and tugged the bottom of his blue, silk shirt up and over his head. John spluttered as it smothered his face and tugged his hair, leaving him disheveled and laughing as she tossed it aside. Overcome by a playful urge, John took advantage of her brief vulnerability to twist himself around and push her backwards, his momentum pushing him to lean forward over her. Vriska squealed and giggled in a way he'd never seen – a personality that was so opposed to the harsh, dangerous airs she put on with the others. His heart skipped a beat as she cocked her head at him and smiled, her horns catching the dim light of evening.

"John," she murmured throatily as her hands slid up his belly to press against his chest. John simply looked at her – he took in the curves and angles, the shapes that made up _her_. He had to... he had to touch. His hands rose to slide along those curves and angles, his fingertips tracing along the contours of her face, through her hair, across the yellow and orange gradient of her horns. His hand left faint streaks of blue along his fingers' path, though Vriska hardly seemed to mind. In fact, she hardly seemed to notice. Her eyes had fluttered closed and her mouth was parted slightly, white fangs just barely gleaming past the shadows caused by her lips as they quivered.

Her skin was so soft, so smooth – far smoother than his own. He loved every inch of it, and his fingers slowly traced down her neck and collar. Vriska's eyes fluttered open once more. "Mmm, John," she cooed, her lips spread into a closed smile as a fang pushed against her blue-streaked black lip. His eyes slid up to meet hers briefly, exchanging a smile, before going back down. Once more, he found himself appreciating her. Her slender frame, the pale gray skin, the way her chest rose and fell as she breathed, the small movements of her muscles... He found his hands sliding down further, each one cupping a breast in its palm, fingers curling. His thumbs slid against the dark gray nubs that capped them, causing Vriska's breath to catch for a moment before she exhaled in a content sigh.

He slowly, carefully, explored one of the things that made her so undeniably feminine. He was a little nervous, but that was slowly dwindling as Vriska's sighs and squirms confirmed that she was actually enjoying it. The thought of it sent a thrill up his spine – he was touching a girl, touching Vriska, and she wanted it, and she loved it, and it was because of _him_ that she was feeling so good, _his_ touch, and... That goofy grin returned. He felt giddy, with a new energy and desire. His eyes moved down to where he had previously been touching, and he gazed at it in wonder – gray smeared in pale, translucent blue, the skin flushed with cerulean tinge. His attention snapped back upward as he heard his name, and he found Vriska sitting up on her elbows, smiling at him. "John," she said again before taking a deep breath. A pause. "I..." She hesitated, and John wondered what she was about to-

* * *

"I want you i-inside me." Vriska exhaled the rest of the air from her lungs as she said it, a blue flush blooming on her cheeks. She was a little disappointed as John's hands faltered on her chest before finally falling away. He seemed lost as he worked his jaw to try to formulate a response and she felt a twinge of adoration. _Soooooooo cuuuuuuuute!_ Perhaps some encouragement was in order – she was feeling rather playful, and she had to admit, she loved feeling this... relaxed, this open. She sat up fully and reached over just enough to – ah. Her fingers wrapped around his manhood gently, and she smiled wider as she felt it stir in her grasp.

"Vriska, I..." Her gaze snapped up to his face, eyes widening slightly. A brief moment of panic welled up in her chest. Did he not want to? Was she being too forward? Damn it, Serket, you're too forward, now he won't want to, now he's gonna hate you and he's gonna leave and- She hoped her expression didn't betray how she was feeling about this uncertainty, about this unwelcome pause as he chewed his lip and stared at her face. "I want that too." She blinked, her hand pausing in its slow stroking of his by now rigid length.

"I..." she began, before John leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips. _He has got to stop doing that_ , she thought briefly before letting him take over. She inhaled slowly as she settled back onto the mattress. The sheer scent of him was wonderful – a bit of mint, sweat, the scent of something chemical but very pleasing from what she assumed was some sort of toiletry – all mixed with the pervasive scent of sex that had by now filled the room. The mix was heady.

Her hand slipped from him to slide around his shoulders, her legs parting slightly as she felt him adjust. Her heart was pounding and her breath was shaky, and she was nervous and curious and happy and impatient and she'd never admit it to anyone but maybe, just maybe, a little bit scared. That sense of _need_ in her groin had never fully abated, however, and she knew what she wanted. She wanted him, all of him. She shifted beneath him as his weight settled onto her, her legs pressing against his hips. "John," she whispered, her voice shakier than she intended. Damn.

"Vriska, I..." he hesitated and looked at her with concern. "I... I know that... I mean... A-are you sure?" She tensed and gasped as she felt his tip come to rest against her, her heart pounding in her chest so loud that she swore he could _hear_ it, _feel_ it. She was breathing hard, but her excited nod was all the answer she needed to give. Her muscles tensed, and she counted her heartbeats as she waited for – it happened, and she gasped. Her legs clamped on his hips and her claws pushed hard against the skin of his shoulders.

It... it was _spreading, filling_ , it was _entering_ , and it was nothing like his touch, it was something else completely, something new, something incredible. She was afraid it was going to hurt, that he would be too big, or... but it was perfect, and he was still sliding in, and she could feel all of him. Her entire body tingled, and her insides burned but it just felt so _good_. She arched her back beneath him and couldn't help but release a series of gasping, squeaking moans. She could feel him shudder against her, could hear his gasp as he first entered and his second as he finally reached the end.

He was so warm, inside and out, and he filled her so perfectly, and she just had to let him know that. She had to. Her lips pressed against his face over and over, kissing away the beads of sweat that formed, breathing his name with each one. _John_. A few fleeting moments – and then she felt John pulling away, and she was feeling panic rise once again. _No no no don't leave don't stop John John please_ – but then he was pushing back in and she gasped in wonder. A wave of pleasure rippled out from that point of contact, making her moan softly as she pressed her lips against the corner of his. He repeated the motion, eliciting another moan as she felt her insides squeeze him involuntarily.

She could feel that heat start to grow within her that she felt before, a slowly rising geyser of joy, physical and emotional. John's movements and breathing were melding into a steady rhythm of rising and falling delight, her closeness allowing her to feel the movements of his muscles beneath her legs and arms. Every so often, his breath would wash over her ear, making her shiver just a little. Neither spoke – this wasn't yet a time for words.

Still... there was something she wanted, an idea that floated to the top of her mind. She had a good grip, she was strong, there was space, she could... She grinned and kissed him on the cheek, waiting for him to push all the way in before tightening her grip and suddenly shifting her weight to the side, rolling him over onto his back. He yelped in surprise and she couldn't help but laugh. Yes, this was good.

* * *

This was better than he could have ever imagined. He had no idea it would feel so... perfect. Like it was made just for him. The heady scent of Vriska filled his mind, full of pheromones and sweat and just... the scent of her, of everything about her. He could feel every silky part of her squeezing gently around him as he slowly moved his hips, tugging when he pulled and welcoming him back when he pushed. He barely registered the kiss to his cheek – she had been giving him so many, saying his name over and over, reassuring him that he was doing it right – and was taken by surprise completely when he found himself on his back. His heart skipped a beat and pounded in his chest as he stared up at her in confusion, wondering why she was laughing. At least it didn't sound like the mean sort of laugh.

"Vriska, what are y... you..." He faltered at her disarming smile, her face so close to his own.

"Shhhhhhhh," she replied. "Let me do some of the work, okay? I... I kind of want to try this." Well, he couldn't argue with that. Nothing seemed wrong, so he did his best to just relax onto the mattress and enjoy the feeling of her slender body atop his. After a moment, he felt her hips slide back, nestling onto his lap. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands, so he just let them slide up her thighs and rest atop the firm curve of her hips. She seemed to like that, if her new kisses were any indication.

It wasn't long before her eyes were closed again, and she was rising up to lean on his chest, arms straight and hands pressing firmly against his ribs. Her hips then slowly began to move – unpracticed, uncertain, and a little jerky – and soon found a gentle, rolling pace. This sensation was entirely new, different from the one before. Her insides were fluttering and rolling against him, and there wasn't any of the entering and leaving, just... a constant, insistent grinding against him. He watched her in wonder, watching the shadows move across her skin, the sweat making it gleam. Her hair moved back and forth as she did, and the two palm-sized curves on her chest moved slightly out of sync with her body.

She seemed enraptured, with her head tilted and her mouth open, a bead of sweat occasionally sliding down her cheek and chin. John found himself slowly rolling his own hips against hers as well as he could, not quite meeting that rhythm – still, every time he rolled into her push, she'd gasp loudly. The rest of the space was filled with John's ragged breathing and her quiet, keening moans. He was increasingly being forced to try to fend off the release his body was insisting on – he wanted to keep this going, he wanted it to last as long as he could, he... he just wanted her like this, forever.

Her arms were shaking slightly, and Vriska was soon lying atop him, his face nestled against her cheek as she moaned softly into his hair. Her hips' movements were growing jerkier, a little less rhythmic, and she was breathing his name again, lips fluttering against his ear, and then it happened. She tensed against him, and he heard her moan – loud, needy, happy, and relieved – and he felt her insides spasm around him. It felt great, and he thought he knew what was happening and it made him grin – _he_ did this, and she felt so good and it was because of _him_. Her hips never stopped rolling against his, even as she trembled atop him, even as he felt that thin blue liquid leak onto his groin, her hands sliding across his face and through his hair as she whispered a phrase into his ear that he didn't quite catch.

It was getting too much, and he couldn't... he couldn't stop it, and his body was tensing as well, and that rapid heat was rocketing through him, and it happened. He gasped and once more found his length jerking and throbbing inside of her, her name forced out of his throat in a gasping exhale. His fingers dug into her hips as she hissed in pleasure. He could feel her squeezing him intentionally, her fangs nipping gently at his cheek and lips. It was over in seconds, and the bone-deep warmth and satisfaction settled into him as he relaxed back onto the mattress.

He hadn't realized his eyes were closed until they opened back up, and he was looking up at her face, her hands pressed against his cheeks as she smiled more genuinely than he'd yet seen. Her cheeks were blue, from exertion and joy. Her hair was disheveled and sweat-slicked, and the room felt so warm but it was comfortable, especially with her to share it with. She spoke, and that phrase she'd been whispering finally registered, and the reason why her smile seemed to also convey some sense of apprehension and hope.

"I love you."

He blinked up at her as she bit her lip. She expected a response, he knew that much. He thought for a moment, about her, about himself. Or at least he would have, if he hadn't blurted out his response so soon. "I-I love you too!"

Vriska's eyes went wide and she grinned ear to ear, leaning back down to kiss him briefly, fiercely. It left him grinning, left them both grinning, even as Vriska slid off of him and settled down next to him, nestling her head into the crook of his shoulder. John sighed in contentment. Yeah, this felt right. This felt perfect. There was probably a hell of a mess to clean up later, but that was later, and this was now. His arm slipped around her waist and pulled her in closer, eliciting a happy coo from the troll.

Several minutes were spent simply listening to the other breathe, to the quiet hum of distant machines and the pulsing of their hearts.

John broke the silence.

"Vriska," he began hesitantly. "Does... does this mean we're uh... um..." He tried to think of the word. What was it Karkat was yelling about all the time? Something about quadrants? "Spitmates?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Matesprits. And shut up, John, don't ruin the moment." He could almost hear the smile he knew was there, though.

Yes, this was how it was supposed to go.


End file.
